


eggs

by ms45



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Come Eating, Cunnilingus, F/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-03-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:08:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23103715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ms45/pseuds/ms45
Summary: Jaskier is trying to enjoy a leisurely hangover breakfast when he is rudely interrupted by his husband Geralt's insistence that he go and satisfy their wife, Yennefera reversal of an untitled fic written by smolpot8o on their tumblr lilacsdandelionsandonions
Relationships: Jaskier | Dandelion & Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 4
Kudos: 44





	eggs

**Author's Note:**

  * For [smolpot8o](https://archiveofourown.org/users/smolpot8o/gifts).
  * Inspired by [[untitled]](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/566227) by smolpot8o. 



Jaskier passed his hand over his face and decided against shaving. Not that he was ever unattractive, but his popularity and income did tend to spike with two or three days’ growth, and if he did say so himself, he did look particularly radiant this morning, coated tongue and fuzzy vision notwithstanding. He dragged a hairbrush carelessly-but-precisely through his chestnut hair, undid one button on his tunic and headed to the kitchen.  


He’d woken up at 5am, hungry and slightly hungover, so left Geralt and Yennefer to wake themselves as they always did. Normal, non-magical people require more than wine and fucking to survive, and Jaskier craved some eggs and sausage, and cheese, and ale, and bread, and some more eggs. A small fire glowed in the stove, and with a few gestures, the poet had a skillet full of tasty provender sizzling in butter.  


He was just mopping up the last of the yolk with a big chunk of bread and congratulating himself on the idea of putting Zerrikanian devilberry sauce on his eggs when he heard an odd noise, like a great hole being sucked in the air.  


The kitchen door flew open and Ciri stood there, bright-eyed and flustered, hair flying in all directions.  


“I portaled! Uncle Jaskier, I portaled!”  


“Very good. Uh… egg?”  


“I’m going to tell Mum.”  


Wincing only very slightly at the casual affection of that “Mum”, he watched her race up the stairs. Just as he remembered what was probably going on up there, she was back.  


“Mum’s doing a spell. Geralt is going to watch me. You should come.”  


“Can I have a second breakfast first?”  


“Sure.” She grabbed a chunk of bread almost out of his hand and ran out to the yard.  


Jaskier contemplated his options. He would go out and watch Ciri’s new skill, of course - but that left a whole day to kill. Second and possibly third breakfast, a spot of work on his autobiography, perhaps some sonnets, then a long lunch at the local tavern…  


His pleasant imaginings were interrupted by Geralt, barely dressed and comprehensively shagged, barging into the kitchen.  


“Uh… Yen wants to see you.”  


“Really? Whatever for? Discussion of inserted rhymes? The influence of Godefroy of Brugge on the novel?”  


Geralt contented himself with a pitying glare and a nod to the upstairs bedroom, and headed outside.  


Smirking at his own brilliance, Jaskier checked his teeth, wiped some sleep out of his eyes and, after a couple of seconds consideration, undid one more button. Yennefer would be getting VERY impatient and it was important to help her exercise restraint. He strolled up the stairs in no real hurry.  


She was still fingering herself when he pushed the door open, slouching casually into the room like he was offering nothing but eggs. (Which he would get to, of course. He wasn’t a heathen.)  


“You rang?” He looked up at her from under his lashes, a calculated three-point glance that drove women insane. Feet, pussy, eyes - furious violet eyes that were in no way satisfied.  


“Come - here” she gritted, maintaining her stroke and widening her legs.  


“Why? I see the situation is perfectly in hand.” He smirked infuriatingly.  


She closed her eyes, opened them, and inserted her middle finger deeply into her soaking cunt. Making direct eye contact, she slowly pulled it out, clearly showing the white cum covering her hand, and sucked it all off.  


Jaskier’s eyes dilated to the size of suns.  


“Come,” she whispered, gesturing with her dainty foot. Semen seeped out of her darkened pussy, battered and ravaged yet still waiting, and he fell to his knees before her.  


But the imp in his brain that got him out of taxes and trouble alike still had presence, and he restrained himself from simply burying his head in the trough. Instead, he too-gently rubbed his chin on her swollen mound, just a little above the sweet spot, kissing just out of the way, smooching her thighs and scritching her belly as she thrust at him and hissed.  


“Eat it,” she growled, “suck him out of me. Swallow the cum out of me.”  


A flash of huge blue eyes. “That certainly is a thought,” he murmured, licking the joint where thigh met belly.  


“GODS FUCK YOU!!” she screamed and pushed his head down. He obeyed immediately, darting his tongue into the well of cum pumping out of her pussy, smearing it over his mouth and nose and somehow ears and making her sing his praises, voice higher and higher until he was sure every vase in the house would shatter, flicking his tongue from arse to bellybutton while she thrashed violently. Finally she grabbed a fistful of his hair and held him exactly where she wanted him, body curled almost to a sitting position, covering him in juices as she shattered into a thousand pieces.  


“Oh my… my, my, my, my, my…” she stuttered, eyes rolled back into her head. “My, my, myyyyyyy.”  


“Your what?” Jaskier joked, a little snappily, as he leaned in to kiss her mouth. She grabbed his head and licked him all over like a mother cat with a kitten, pinning him in place as he tried to wipe cum and juice all over her, letting him rut against her thighs and leave his own trail on her sweating skin.  


Eventually, she flipped him on his back and rubbed her face in his quite incredible expanse of chest hair, flicking her eyelashes over a nipple, taking little bites of skin. She was working her way down and just about to return Jaskier’s favour when a trill of magic burst down her spine. She sat up immediately.  


“I have to go.”  


Jaskier huffed in frustration. “To Ciri? She can wai- AAAUUUGGHHH”  


The witch pointed a pinkie at his cock and his entire body was consumed, every cell expanding and contracting with a boneshattering orgasm that rendered him speechless and spineless even as he got cum up his own nose.  


Bitch, he dimly thought as his head crashed to the mattress and oblivion overtook him. She can get her own eggs…


End file.
